New York Romance
by crazy-dreams
Summary: Future Trory. Just a one-parter for now.


AN: I started writing this on a plane and finished it while watching 'When Harry Met Sally' for about the 10th time. It's cliched, but a girl's got to amuse herself somehow when fashion magazines contain enough words to last about 15 mins, she's finished the novel, isn't into the biography and QANTAS hasn't deemed it necessary to seat her next to a young, gorgeous, witty, intelligent guy (I would have settled for just one of those qualities!)  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Disclaimer: Tristan, Rory, Jess, Paris, et al aren't mine. All credit to ASP & WB.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York Romance  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Twenty-five year old Tristan DuGrey slumped into his first class plane seat early Sunday evening. He hated travelling for work. No matter what people thought, it was not glamorous at all. After spending all weekend at a conference he just wanted to get home and sleep. Tristan loosened his tie, leant back a closed his eyes.  
  
"Excuse me," a female voice interrupted a minute later, "can I get to my seat?"  
  
Tristan opened his eyes and found an attractive woman about his age staring at him with a curious grin on her face. She looked vaguely familiar.. Tristan stood up to allow her to shuffle past him and sit down.  
  
"Thanks." The woman smiled. She was dressed casually in designer jeans, sweater, boots and a leather jacket, which she shrugged off before adjusting her trendy glasses. Her hair was cut just above her shoulders and streaked with reddish gold highlights. Tristan tried not to be too obvious in checking her out. Maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad after all, he thought.  
  
The woman next to him was naturally gorgeous without trying and appeared to be unaware of her radiance, in stark contrast to the heavily made-up flight attendant who was now vying for his attention.  
  
"Can I get you anything?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at Tristan.  
  
He looked to his neighbour for help and she jumped in quickly,  
  
"I'll have mineral water thanks."  
  
The flight attendant shot her a dirty look. Ignoring this, his fellow passenger placed a hand on Tristan's arm, "what about you honey?"  
  
"I'll have the same."  
  
The flight attendant beat a hasty retreat.  
  
"Thanks for that," Tristan said to his companion.  
  
"I see the DuGrey charms have lost none of their impact," she smiled at him.  
  
"I do know you!" Tristan exclaimed triumphantly, "I knew you looked familiar."  
  
"You didn't say anything."  
  
"What, like 'don't I know you from somewhere?' Now that's an impressive line."  
  
Tristan still couldn't place her. He'd been with his share of women over the years, but this one seemed different. He wouldn't have forgotten her in a hurry. She wasn't just physically attractive, it was corny, but he could tell she was beautiful inside as well. Smart and funny and. laughing at him.  
  
"You don't remember me, do you?" she asked.  
  
"No, I." Tristan tried to come up with something quickly, but hung his head in defeat, "help me out here?"  
  
The woman shook her head, "nah, this is too much fun."  
  
"A clue? Please?" Tristan didn't think he'd slept with her, she wasn't pissed off that he hadn't called. Maybe they'd worked together.  
  
"So what brings you to New York?" he asked, hoping to make a connection.  
  
"I'm going home."  
  
"Was the trip for business or pleasure?"  
  
"People go to LA for pleasure?"  
  
He laughed, "so you're an East Coast girl," that didn't really narrow it down, "do we live in the same building?"  
  
"Nope! My turn to ask a question, what do you do?"  
  
"Ah, you don't know what I do, one point for me!"  
  
"Are you going to enlighten me?"  
  
Tristan could have played it out, but didn't bother, "I'm a marketing executive."  
  
"Oh."  
  
He could see her struggling to come up with something complimentary to say about that, "it's not that bad!"  
  
"No, I just have no idea what one of those would do."  
  
"I won't bore you with the details," Tristan switched back to quizzing her, "what do YOU do for a living?"  
  
"I write."  
  
The woman didn't reveal much, but their bantering was an enjoyable way to spend the flight.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
When the plane landed they walked to the baggage carousel together.  
  
"Can I help you with your bags or something?" Tristan offered.  
  
She shook her head, "never pack more than you can carry yourself."  
  
"How very sensible."  
  
"Learnt the hard way, after lugging 50 pounds of crap around Europe."  
  
"I love Europe," Tristan commented.  
  
"Me too. I went the summer I graduated high school. Can't wait to go back again some day," she grabbed her bag, swung it over her shoulder and turned to leave, "well, thanks for keeping me entertained."  
  
"Wait!" Tristan called, "if I can't have your name, can I at least have your number?" he asked hopefully.  
  
She scribbled on a piece of paper, folded it over and handed it to him, "see you around Tristan DuGrey," she said with a laugh before disappearing into the crowd.  
  
Tristan was in love with that laugh already. He unfolded the paper, "yes," he said softly. Underneath the number was a name.  
  
Mary.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Her hair was different; her face was a different shape, less rounded, more grown up. She wasn't so innocent any more. But she was still the most amazing woman he knew. Unable to help himself, Tristan called her from the cab on the way home.  
  
"Rory Gilmore," he said when she answered the phone.  
  
"He figured it out," Tristan could hear the smile in her voice.  
  
"You looked different," he offered, as some excuse.  
  
"It's been nearly 10 years."  
  
"So I was wondering if you'd like to get together for a coffee sometime?" he suggested hopefully.  
  
"Okay," she agreed, he'd used the magic word.  
  
"Thursday afternoon?"  
  
"Name the place."  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Thursday afternoon they met at the coffee shop Tristan suggested.  
  
"This isn't bad coffee," Rory said approvingly as they sat at a small table in a quiet corner of the busy room.  
  
"Glad it meets your standards."  
  
"So, Tristan, the past 10 years?" said asked, "starting with the miraculous reform at military school."  
  
He laughed, "I don't know if military school had miraculous powers of reform. I'm more inclined to believe I just grew up. Got into a good school. Got a good job. Here I am."  
  
"Wow, you've made that sound so exciting I don't know how I can ever compete."  
  
"Try. So you're a writer. Novels? Philosophy? Must be something too intellectual for me, I haven't heard your name around."  
  
"Leigh Ashfield," Rory said.  
  
"You're Leigh Ashfield? New York Times star reporter?"  
  
"I don't know about that," Rory said modestly.  
  
"Your stuff's really great," Tristan said genuinely, "why the alias though?"  
  
"It's not an alias. Leigh's my middle name, it's just what everyone here calls me. And Ashfield's my married name."  
  
"You're married?" Tristan's jaw dropped first. Then his eyes, to the ring conspicuously missing from her hand.  
  
"Divorced," Rory explained.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Tristan offered.  
  
"Don't be, it wasn't a traumatic experience."  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
"Married too young. It only lasted a year. He's a good guy, just didn't work out," she shrugged, "what about you, any one been able to tie Tristan DuGrey down?"  
  
"Nah," he replied, "I'm your original playboy remember? Eternal bachelor, commitment phobic, married to the job, all the stereotypes."  
  
"I doubt that's true."  
  
He looked at her questioningly.  
  
"I'm sure there's more to you than that."  
  
"There is," he assured her. Tristan looked down at her empty mug, "can I buy you another coffee?"  
  
"Absolutely!'  
  
"Still addicted to the stuff?"  
  
"You better believe it!"  
  
"Still beautiful," he commented, "still breaking hearts?"  
  
Rory blushed.  
  
"And I can still make you blush!" Tristan said proudly, standing up to order again.  
  
He returned a minute later with fresh coffee for both of them.  
  
"So do you keep in touch with Paris?" Tristan asked, "I hear she'd practically running Wall Street these days."  
  
"We weren't exactly the closest of friends, if you'll remember correctly, but we co-exist. I interviewed her for a story just before I left for LA and we said we'd get together."  
  
"So what's she like these days?"  
  
"Still Paris. On track to be president by the time she's 30."  
  
"That's Paris. And how's your family? Do you visit much?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, I try to get back there a lot. I love the city, but it's great to take a break and go home to Stars Hollow. Everyone there's doing well. I have siblings! As well as Dad and Sherry's little girl, Mom and Luke have two adorable boys. They've been living together for years, but mom refuses to marry him. She says she can't be bothered and it's unnecessary. Luke goes along with her and says it's a waste of money, but I can tell he wants to. I just can't figure out it she's genuinely terrified it won't work out or just wants to die an unmarried mother to piss off my grandmother. Although those two do get along better now. Grandma and Grandpa seem happy too, more relaxed. They're getting older though." Rory trailed off, "sorry, I've just been rambling."  
  
Tristan hadn't minded at all, he could have listened to her talk all day.  
  
"Shit, I've gotta go," Rory checked her watch, "meeting with my editor in 10 minutes!" she grabbed her bag, "thanks for the coffee!"  
  
Tristan left the coffee shop with her, "can I see you again tomorrow night for a drink? Or dinner maybe?"  
  
"Uh, yeah sure," now on the footpath, Rory was scanning the street for a cab, "I'll meet you after work." Rory gave him the name of a bar as she jumped in a cab.  
  
"See you then."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next day Rory called Paris to arrange a time for a second interview. They got to chatting about more personal things.  
  
"Guess who I ran into the other day?" Rory asked.  
  
"You really want me to guess?"  
  
"Tristan!"  
  
"Tristan DuGrey? From Chilton?"  
  
"You know another Tristan DuGrey?"  
  
"I know a lot of people," Paris replied.  
  
"Yeah, we had a coffee and I'm supposed to meet him tonight. I didn't realise I was agreeing to go out with him! I mean, coffee's just coffee but drinks and maybe dinner, that's definitely a date!"  
  
"Why are you telling me this?" Paris interrupted her.  
  
Rory stopped short, "I have absolutely no idea."  
  
"Don't you have any friends?"  
  
"I have friends," Rory responded indignantly.  
  
"Yeah, well I have a busy day," Paris said gruffly.  
  
"Right, sorry to waste your time," Rory sounded a little hurt.  
  
"No, Rory, wait," Paris sighed, "I didn't mean it like that. Tell me about Tristan. As someone who knows you both I really am the only one qualified to judge."  
  
Rory rolled her eyes because she knew this was Paris's idea of being nice, "no it's okay, I have stuff to do too. But I'll let you know what happens."  
  
"Sure, I'll see you next week then."  
  
"Yep, bye Paris."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
As soon as Rory ended the call with Paris her phoned rang again. She smiled, recognising the number.  
  
"Hello, this is the popular one."  
  
"Hey, gorgeous, whatcha up to tonight? Can I come too?"  
  
"Did you get blown off?"  
  
"I did not get blown off, she had a last minute emergency."  
  
"What her hair dryer broke?"  
  
"Very funny. So you wanna hang out?"  
  
"Can't, I have a date."  
  
"What, with an actual guy?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Not an interview?"  
  
"No. Why is that so hard to believe?"  
  
"Your 'dates' are usually with dead authors."  
  
"Well I like to mix it with the living occasionally."  
  
"I better let you get ready then."  
  
"It's 1:30. It does not take me that long to get ready! Unlike your last girlfriend," Rory ribbed.  
  
"Simone was a model, looking good was in the job description."  
  
"How an intelligent guy like you ends up with these bimbos I will never know."  
  
"You gotta stop dissing my women or I'll start thinking you're jealous!"  
  
"Of course it's also a mystery why such attractive women would want to date a grungy specimen like you. I guess there's no accounting for taste!" she teased.  
  
"I was good enough for you!"  
  
"Ah, but I was young and naive!"  
  
"I have charisma. I'm the epitome of the word."  
  
"But can your girlfriends spell it?"  
  
"That's enough outta you! Get back to work!"  
  
"Fine, I'll leave you to stroke your ego."  
  
"Have fun tonight kiddo! I'll call ya tomorrow."  
  
"Bye Jess."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Rory approached the bar with a certain amount of trepidation. Contrary to Jess' teasing, her preparation for the date had been five minutes touching up her makeup in the bathroom at work. She was wearing a nice suit as she'd had an interview that morning though.  
  
Rory spotted Tristan sitting at the bar straight away.  
  
"So what's a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?" she joked, sliding onto the stool beside him.  
  
"Ah, you know, looking for a hot chick to pick up," Tristan played along, "so what do you say, baby, can I buy you a drink?"  
  
"I'm not supposed to accept drinks from strangers."  
  
"I have a trust fund."  
  
"In that case, I'll have a large G&T."  
  
"That's not a very Rory thing to say," Tristan commented as the bartender set their drinks on the conter.  
  
"Don't think you know me!"  
  
"I've always known you," Tristan mock leered at her, "known you wanted me, that is."  
  
"Don't talk about the past Tristan, please. People change. Don't get any romantic ideas just because as a 16 year old boy you pretended to like me."  
  
"It wasn't pretend. I was crazy about you."  
  
"Well whatever we felt back then doesn't matter now."  
  
"Whatever WE felt? Does that mean you missed me, Mary?"  
  
"Yeah, I've been pining for you ever since Romeo and Juliet."  
  
Tristan didn't demand a serious answer but changed the topic, "want to get out of here and get some dinner?" he asked.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Rory chose a nice restaurant that wasn't too fancy and they had an enjoyable meal together.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
After dinner they shared a cab home.  
  
Rory was lost in thought. She was having a good time on their date, but didn't want to think about Tristan in high school. She just wanted to pretend that this was a great new guy and they could take their time getting to know each other without any pre-conceived notions or past baggage. Tristan's place was first and when the cab pulled up out front he pulled Rory out as well.  
  
"Want to come up for a coffee?"  
  
Rory laughed at his line, but Tristan smiled so charmingly she didn't refuse the invitation. Taking things slowly was over-rated anyway.  
  
He kissed her in the lift on the way up and Rory responded eagerly. They were still kissing while Tristan opened the door to his apartment. Once inside, he fumbled for the light switch.  
  
"This is a nice place," Rory said, "but are you sure someone lives here?"  
  
The apartment was spacious and spotless, filled with expensive furniture, but it looked more like a hotel room than a home, with no photos or personal items scattered around.  
  
"I'm not really here that much," Tristan explained, "do you want something to drink?"  
  
Rory shook her head, "no thanks," she bit on her lower lip and moved towards Tristan, shrugging off her suit jacket as she did. He did the same, throwing his jacket on the couch. When Rory got close enough she grabbed his tie, "which way's the bedroom?"  
  
Her boldness surprised them both. Tristan pointed wordlessly and she led him there.  
  
They lay on the bed, just hugging and kissing for a while. Eventually Tristan's hand roamed up her skirt, his eyes asking hers for permission. Rory shivered as his fingers brushed her inner thighs as he carefully removed her pantyhose. Her lips found his again and they began unbuttoning each other's shirts, fumbling as hands got in the way. Laughing, they were forced to break apart for a moment.  
  
"Get out of my way," Rory protested, playfully slapping his hand away.  
  
"Yes mam!" Tristan lay back with a smile and allowed Rory to finish removing his shirt.  
  
Pretty soon they were both down to just their underwear. Tristan trailed kisses down her neck, over the tops of her breasts, peaking out from under her bra and down her stomach, stopping just before the waistband of her panties.  
  
"Now you're just teasing me," Rory complained, jabbing a finger against his stomach, admiring its firmness, "wow, you're a rock. Make me feel guilty about never going to the gym."  
  
"You're perfect," Tristan assured her.  
  
"I bet you have a cute butt too," Rory continued, sitting up to peek down the back of his boxers, "oh yeah," she let the elastic snap back with a laugh.  
  
"Now who's teasing?" Tristan tackled her back down and quickly removed the rest of their clothes.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next morning Rory awoke in a strange bed and adjusted her eyes to the sunlight that filled the room. It was nearly 9 am and Tristan was still fast asleep. Rory extracted herself from his arms, pulled on her panties and his discarded shirt and searched the kitchen for some coffee. She hummed softly to herself as she waited for the water to boil.  
  
Uh oh, Rory thought, that was a sure sign she was falling in love.  
  
When the phone rang, she let the answering machine get it.  
  
"Hi Sexy, it's Alison," a female voice purred, "I heard you're back in town, I've missed you. Give me a call for some company tonight."  
  
Rory crashed back to earth. She suddenly felt sick. Leaving the coffee, she went back to the bedroom to collect her clothes.  
  
"Ouch!" she stubbed her toe while pulling on her skirt in a hurry and the noise woke Tristan up.  
  
"Hey, good morning," Tristan said with a smile that soon vanished when he saw the look on her face.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
"This!" Rory cried, "this is all wrong. It's not me. I'm not like you, I don't do this! I don't go out with someone once and spend the night with them."  
  
"I'm not just some random stranger, we're old friends!" he argued, reaching out to her.  
  
Rory shrugged him away, "Tristan! We're not friends. We were never friends. You wanted to get in my pants in high school. Well congratulations, you've finally fucked the not so virgin Mary. Add another notch to your bedpost!" with that Rory stormed out.  
  
"Rory wait!" Tristan pulled on his boxers and chased after her but she was gone.  
  
'What did I do?' he thought, dropping his head to the kitchen counter. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the light on the answering machine blinking.  
  
"Shit!" he swore after listening to the message. No wonder Rory was upset.  
  
He called her mobile and left a message.  
  
"Rory, it's Tristan, I just wanted to explain, that woman on the answering machine, we just work together and, well, she wants something more. It doesn't mean anything, I swear. Look, I had a great time last night and I really want to see you again, so please call me and we'll talk."  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Tristan tried looking up Rory's address, but she wasn't listed under either Gilmore or Ashfield, so he spent the rest of the weekend calling her.  
  
"Hi, this is Leigh, leave you name and number and I'll get back to you," the message chirped at him for the twentieth time on Sunday night.  
  
Tristan threw his phone at the wall in frustration.  
  
"That whole message is a lie!" he yelled, "it's not Leigh, it's Rory and you don't get back to me!"  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next day Tristan couldn't concentrate. He left work early and stopped by the New York Times office.  
  
"I'm looking for Ror- Leigh Ashfield," he told the receptionist.  
  
"Ms Ashfield isn't in today," he was informed.  
  
  
  
Tristan had one more idea. He pulled out his cell phone.  
  
"Hello Paris? It's Tristan DuGrey."  
  
After a certain amount of begging Paris gave him Rory's address. He raced over there, but no one was home so he called Paris back.  
  
"Where would she go?" he pleaded.  
  
"Tristan, you sound terrible," Paris told him.  
  
"I have to find her, Paris. I'm not going to let her disappear from my life again. You have to help me. Who would she go to? Her best friend? Her ex- husband?"  
  
"Not the ex. They're friendly, but not that close. Her best friend, Lane, lives in Boston...The only person I can think of is Jess," Paris said finally.  
  
"Jess, great, where can I find her?" Tristan asked excitedly.  
  
"Jess is a him," Paris informed him.  
  
"Oh," Tristan's voice fell.  
  
"They're like brother and sister," Paris consoled.  
  
"Okay, well what's his last name?"  
  
Paris thought for a minute, "Mariano. Jess Mariano."  
  
"Thank God for Paris Geller's memory!"  
  
"How about thanking Paris Geller?"  
  
"Thank you Paris Geller."  
  
"You're welcome. And Tristan?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Will you or Rory call me and let me know how it works out?" she asked kind of shyly.  
  
"We'll invite you to the wedding," Tristan promised.  
  
Paris snorted, "good luck with that. Bye Tristan."  
  
"Bye Paris."  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Rory sat on Jess' tiny balcony watching the sun set.  
  
"So you had a one night stand," Jess was saying, "it's not you, but it happens. It's not the end of the world."  
  
"But I don't want it just to be a one night stand,"' Rory mumbled.  
  
"Then why did you yell at him and run out?"  
  
"Cos I'm screwed up?" she suggested.  
  
"You are the most together person I know," Jess assured her, "you're just scared. Why don't you just call the guy? What have you got to lose?"  
  
"My pride, my heart, my underwear," Rory replied miserably, "I left my favourite bra at his place! He probably added it to a collection."  
  
"Maybe he is a jerk, but if you care enough to have spent the last three days moping about it you should at least take the chance to find out," said Jess.  
  
"I'll get you another coffee," he picked up her empty mug and went inside.  
  
Rory thought about what Jess said. And about all the messages Tristan had left her. He obviously did care. She shouldn't judge him on some stupid reputation. As much as Rory didn't want to admit it, she was still hurting from the past. She didn't want high school to affect the relationship she and Tristan could have now.  
  
"I'm going to call him," Rory announced as a male figure climbed out on to the balcony and handed her another coffee.  
  
"Good to hear, but not necessary."  
  
"Tristan!" Rory spun around, "what are you doing here?"  
  
"Well seeing as how you yelled at me, ran out on me and don't return my calls, I'm not really sure. Maybe I'm just a sucker for punishment."  
  
Rory cracked a smile and he continued.  
  
"I'm really sorry if you got the wrong impression. I promise I wasn't just using you and I don't want you to feel like it meant nothing, cos it meant a lot to me. And this isn't just some teenage crush. What I feel for you is real here and now, I met this fantastic girl who I really want to impress."  
  
"Maybe she feels the same way."  
  
"Maybe I'm already impressed."  
  
"I'm sorry," Rory said softly.  
  
Tristan pulled her into his arms for a tight hug, "I think I love you, Rory Gilmore," he pulled away and produced a rope, "I brought you something. To prove that I've changed."  
  
Tristan handed her the rope, "I'm ready to be tied down," he said, "and I want to be tied to you."  
  
Jess popped his head outside just then, "please, no kinky stuff on the balcony."  
  
"You!" Rory shoved him playfully, "you let him in! What if he was some psycho stalking me? What if I really did hate him?"  
  
Jess shrugged casually, "it all turned out right didn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, luckily for you," Rory gave her friend a warm hug, "thanks for everything, Jess."  
  
"Any time kiddo," he replied.  
  
Rory took Tristan's hand and they said goodbye to Jess.  
  
"So," Tristan turned to Rory when they were in the hallway outside and grinned, "your place or mine?"  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
END  
  
  
  
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